My Own Kids Replaced Me with Their Dad's Mistress

“We want Auntie to be our mom. She’s nicer than you, and she treats us way better!”

“Yeah, if Leanne can’t have kids, she’d treat yours like her own.”

I looked at the people in front of me, tears filling my eyes. They were all my family, yet they were all hurting me.

I let out a bitter laugh. I said, “You want me to divorce him? Fine. But I want half of Harlan's assets. If I don’t get my share, forget about me signing the papers.”

If my family was rotten, I didn’t want any of them anymore. I’d just take what I deserved.

“Harlan, don’t forget, I was the one who stuck by you when you were trying to get back on your feet. I was the one who hustled to bring in the business, going to supplier after supplier, comparing prices, and making those deals happen. Half of everything you have, I’m entitled to it.”

He stood there, head down, saying nothing for a long time. Finally, he muttered, “But you know I’m in the middle of a big deal with Mr. Winchell. If I give you half of everything I have, I can’t come up with that much right now. You rebuilt Hannergy Technologies with me—can you really stand to see it get bankrupt again?”

My expression hardened. “Oh, so you can’t bear to let the company fall, but you can bear to cheat on me with my step-sister, huh? You know this company’s success is partly because of my hard work, so don’t even think about keeping it all. Either give me half or don’t even think about divorcing you. Besides, Hannergy Technologies is doing great now. What do you think will happen when the media finds out you dumped your wife for her younger sister? You think the public will still trust you?”

“You know I can’t give you that much right now! You’re doing this on purpose! You want Hannergy Technologies to go bankrupt again!” he snapped, completely losing his cool.

“Leanna, how about this?” My father stepped in, trying to smooth things over and calm me down. “I know you’re hurt and can’t accept what’s going on. I’ll give you a villa and a million dollars, so you can get some rest.”

“You’re so selfish! How can you watch Dad go bankrupt? Can’t you just leave quietly? If you do, maybe I’ll still call you ‘Mom.’ But if you don’t, don’t even think about Winnie and I calling you that,” my son yelled.

“Yeah, Mom, Willie’s right! You love money more than us, don’t you? Just take Grandpa’s offer! If you don’t, we won’t forgive you!” his sister chimed in.

I looked at them—my kids, the ones I nearly died giving birth to. Their words stabbed me in the heart, and before I knew it, tears had spilled down my cheeks. God, the pain was unbearable.

“Fine. I don’t need either of you. I just want what’s mine.”

In the end, the Barrymores covered part of the settlement. I signed the divorce papers, took my share, and walked away without looking back.

I moved to Australia and decided to adopt a child.

The orphanage director eagerly introduced me to all the kids, but my eyes landed on a gloomy-eyed boy in the corner.

He sat there, his small body curled up in the corner as if he didn’t belong to the world around him.

Noticing me looking at the boy, the director explained quietly, “That boy’s had it rough. His parents had a poor relationship, and his father would abuse both him and his mother. One day, he watched his mother get beaten to death. When he was brought here, he didn’t speak at all—he was withdrawn and isolated.”

I flipped through his file and found out that he was exceptionally intelligent, with an IQ over 170, and had a photographic memory.

He didn’t like to talk, often lost in his own world, preferring to read by himself for over 10 hours a day. But he was emotionally shut off, cold even, unable to connect with others. His traumatic childhood must've stripped him of any feeling.

Gently, I took his hand and asked, “Do you want to come with me? I want to be your mom.”